Exile 5: Surprises
by krtshadow
Summary: After a hiatus, the Exile series is back. Tim Drake is back in Gotham and planning on staying, but there may still be a few surprises in store for him. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1: Rituals

_I want to start out with an apology. I completely abandoned this series due to some real life issues, and it has taken me this long to get interested again. Updating may be a little slow, but I do have quite a storyline to get through. If, for some reason, things go weird again, I will let you know, and possibly open the series up for another author to take over._

_Also, this series is directly connected to the previous stories in the Exile storyline. In fact, most of this story has been sitting on my hard drive for a while. My writing style may have changed a little, but it should flow pretty well. You are going to want to read the previous Exile stories, if you haven't yet._

_I've been out of comics for a while, and pretty much everything that has happened in DCU since 2003 hasn't happened in my world and probably won't. Anything that I choose to work in will be different. Which from what I can tell, is probably a good thing. Damien who? Cass did WHAT!?_

**DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to DC, who with all their money from Dark Knight, really shouldn't bother chasing after me… regardless, this is intended for enjoyment (mine, mostly) and I am not making any money off of the use of DC's characters. **

Chapter 1: Rituals

I woke up with the oh so wonderful feeling of sunlight streaming right into my eyes. Even my mind was sarcastic this morning. That did not, generally, bode well for the rest of my day.

I rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom for a shower. I was stiff. You would think that you would use roughly the same muscles for running and martial arts than you do for acrobatics and roof wandering, but apparently not. Still, the soreness was not unbearable, and unfortunately, it was not going to get better until it got more not better.

No, I don't care to know how badly I just mixed that metaphor.

I needed more sleep. Sleep that I couldn't allow myself to have. I'd have to settle for coffee, because I needed to practice. I didn't know exactly what the standards Bruce was going to be holding me to, but although I was certain that my martial arts were up to speed, there were other things that needed some work. Things like getting updated on the current state of affairs in Gotham, catching up on the technological advances of the last three years, and definitely a couple of good acrobatic workouts.

Dick had just plain embarrassed me last night. I was just slow. Acrobatically, he'd always been better than me. In all actuallity, he was better than anyone else in the world, and I wasn't likely to ever be in his league, but I was disturbingly far behind in comparison to where I had been before leaving Gotham. Oh, I was stronger, and was able to pull some moves that I hadn't been able to do before, but the reflexive, constant movement of a cross-city dash had shown me some serious holes in my techniques.

Even the shower wasn't enough to wake me up, since I resisted turning the water to ice cold like I should have. It would have woken me up all right, but I was too much of a wimp. I didn't even bother drying my hair, it would have taken too long and coffee of the high-octane variety was necessary, and fast.

I made my way downstairs, not surprised in the slightest that the omnipresent Alfred was waiting with a cup of hot, black coffee. I saw him stifle a smile at the look of anticipation that I sent the cup as I wrapped my hands around it. Ahh, caffeine. Feeling somewhat more alive, I managed to make like a normal human being and greet Alfred. "Good morning, and thank you, thank you, thank you for the coffee."

"Good morning. You are quite welcome. If you prefer a certain brand or strength, please inform me, and I will see to the matter." Oh. Well, that was nice. I could get used to this, I think.

"Well, if it's no trouble, I do like it a little stronger and with sugar, but please don't…" My voice trailed off as my taste buds woke up and I realized that this was no mere coffee, this was the expensive stuff. Bruce _Wayne_ coffee. Ahhh. Heaven on earth.

"It is no trouble at all." He gave me a slight smile. "Master Bruce recently purchased a coffee maker of the industrial variety. I shall just utilize one of the other pots. Now, breakfast is waiting." He shooed me toward the dining room. I entered and froze in the doorway. I had forgotten how intimidating some of the manor rooms could be. A football field could have practically fit in the dining room. I about-faced abruptly, and headed for the kitchen.

Alfred looked up in surprise as I entered his domain. I felt kind of embarrassed, but that dining room was just too formal. "Uhhmm, do you mind if I eat in here?"

"Of course not. The dining room can be rather daunting."

I grinned. Trust Alfred to give me an easy out. "Rather." Especially when I'm tired. I don't think that I could relax in that huge room. So, Alfred served me my toast and eggs in the kitchen and I was perfectly content. After finishing, I offered to help around the house but Alfred gave me a glare and informed me that he was perfectly capable of handling matters. I escaped into the cave.

I hadn't had the chance to talk to Bruce last night, since Dick had left to finish up the night in Bludhaven at about three AM, and I had returned to go to bed, while Bruce probably hadn't gotten in until five or so. Still, the note that I had left for him on the center console was gone and there was no note to me in its place, so I assumed that everything was fine. He would have told me if he'd had a problem with either the name, or the rough basics of a costume that I had outlined. Very basic, but Bruce was the one with the contacts that could make my general ideas into a workable, useful design.

I made my way to the gym area, and whistled under my breath. This area had been expanded since I'd been gone. It now sported a huge bar set, spanning at least thirty feet and reaching at least two stories into the darkness of the cave. Wires, pipes, and boards were dispersed throughout the maze of bars and I could tell that these could be moved around to create variety in the workout. I grimaced to myself. Something told me I was going to be spending a lot of time on those bars.

But not this morning. I continued on, finally finding what I was looking for. A grate hung from the ceiling about eight feet from the floor. Suspended from it were a variety of punching bags. I leaped up and caught the edge of the grate and pulled myself up. I managed to rearrange three of the lighter bags in the positions that I wanted, a rough triangle, with a three to four foot space in the middle. A few adjustments to the chains and it was perfect.

Dropping back down to ground level, I donned a pair of lightweight protective gloves and stepped into the center of the bags. Darkness fell over my eyes as I pulled a blindfold over my eyes. I stood in the center of my circle and stretched out, touching each of the light bags, feeling them sway as my fingers brushed them. Once I had each one located, I slipped my headphones on and randomized the MP3 player in my pocket.

My workout had originated in Switzerland, actually, where there were exactly two punching bags, three treadmills, and a rowing machine in the gym three miles outside of my school where I snuck out to get some real workout time in. The school mandated "one period a day" of physical education was generally taken up with tennis, polo, or fencing, none of which really kept me in the kind of shape that I wanted to be in. Although, I must admit, fencing had its moments. There had been a bit of trouble keeping anyone interested in a match with me, though.

Those two bags and my MP3 player had become a workout routine that I still found usable and returned too often. I had added the blindfold as soon I was away from Switzerland, and the third bag about six months ago in China. The player had about 700 different audio clips, ranging from loud music and nature sounds, to gunshots and screams. My job was to keep my attention on the bags and keep them moving regardless of the distractions of the various sounds and to do so while blindfolded.

To make matters even more challenging, some of the sounds were command sounds, and told me to do something specific, such as roll if a gunshot was heard, or change my fighting style according to different music clips. As difficult as this workout was, stepping into the center of the bags felt familiar. I couldn't count the nights that I'd practiced just like this, alone. For the most part, I hadn't had anyone to spar with, and this was something that I could do alone.

It was a very good physical workout. Unfortunately, I hadn't done it for quite a while. And since this was a very good workout, my lack of recent practice meant that this was going to hurt. Quite a bit, probably. It's not like I'm not already sore from last night or anything.

Is it just me or is the phrase, 'no pain, no gain' just innately depressing.

The music, well, technically, the sounds of a busy street, started playing in my ear. I started striking two of the bags, and they began to move, swaying in and out based on how much force I put into my blows. I was trusting in my memory and instinct to keep them moving and not slamming into me. They were light, but if swung back and hit me, it would knock the breath out of me and make it that much harder to recover and keep going. The sound changed into a bass heavy trance song and I added the third bag to the mix. I let my mind focus solely on the bags and on keeping them moving.

Minutes passed and I started to get short of breath. Gunshot, duck, roll, whirl, kick, and strike fast to catch that third bag. The chimes that told me to only use my feet until the next command. Back kick, nature sounds, slow it down, disco, speed it up, jazz, on the ground. The movements and sounds began to flow together almost without thought, as muscle memory and practice sharpened instinct took over.

I was getting close to the point of quitting, since my legs were beginning to feel like wet noodles and I was already well past the thirty-minute mark. Not as good as I had been doing overseas, but not too shabby, either.

Suddenly, the first bag slammed into my back, surprising me. What? I'd just hit that one, and… uhhufff! This time it was the third bag and I knew that something was wrong. With one quick move, I yanked the blindfold and headphones from my head. I rolled quickly out of the circle of the bags and grabbed the person who had been sabotaging my practice.

And then, since it was Cass, I was the one who ended up flat on my back. She perched on my chest, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Morning." She chirped.

I didn't say a word. I just calmly watched the second bag swing towards the back of her head.

Hey, she started it.

"Oof." Plus, it didn't really hurt her, but it did give me the opportunity to push her off of me and switch places with her.

Only then did I grin and answer, "Morning." I knew that I couldn't hold her, as winded as I was, so I saved myself the humiliation of being dumped on my butt again, and stood, hand outstretched to help her to her feet. "So, how long were you watching?" That was the definite downside of that particular exercise. Since I was blindfolded and was wearing headphones, anybody could sneak up on me.

Cass stood and grinned back at me. "Since you started." Oh. Well, maybe she could sneak up on me even when I wasn't otherwise occupied. Interesting, if a little humiliating. "What you doing now?"

I shrugged. "I don't really know. I guess I'll start reviewing some files." I sniffed. "After I get a shower…"

"Files boring. Come visit Babs with me. She wants to see you." Cass looked at me expectantly.

Well, that did sound like a lot more fun than files. I thought for a second. I could look at those files later. "You're on."

Cass wrinkled her nose at me. "Shower first. I pull out car."

I nodded and headed for the showers. Then it hit me. Cass was driving? That could be interesting…

Or deadly…

_Comments and suggestions and even constructive criticism appreciated. I am shooting for posting at least once a week, maybe more often as time allows._

_krtshadow_


	2. Chapter 2: Driving

_Okay, this chapter is too short and the next chapter is too long. I appear to be missing some balance somewhere, but I've tried three times to fix it and I can't seem to make it work, so I will just be posting both chapters today to make up for a short chapter 2. _

**DISCLAIMER: Not mine… DC's. **

CHAPTER 2: Driving

I clenched my teeth. I closed my eyes. I grabbed the door handle. I considered prayer.

She still didn't slow down. "Cass." Getting that out without too much strain in my voice was a lot harder than it should have been, given the shortness of her name.

"Yes?" We were currently weaving through daytime traffic in one of Bruce's many cars, this one a brand new Mercedes. I was beginning to feel very grateful that she had chosen this relatively inexpensive car instead of the Lamborghini. It would take a miracle to get through this without at least a dent. Or maybe a death or two.

I worked up my courage. "Dick taught you how to drive, didn't he?" Ok, Tim, you're a tough guy, you can get though this. Oh, crud! That car! The innocents! Like me! I winced as we took a corner about twenty miles too fast.

Cass turned to look at me. "Yes, Dick taught. Bruce looked just like you when I take him."

I gave up on considering prayer and actually resorted to it. "Keep your eyes on the road, Cass." Please… there's a stop sign.

"He say that too." At least she listened to me, and we screeched to a stop barely a millimeter behind the white line of a crosswalk.

"Wait, Bruce actually let you drive him somewhere?" That would have been interesting to watch, actually. Preferably from a video link, though, and not anywhere within two miles of the chaos. Preferably, the Watchtower.

"Once." Heh. "Then I try Batmobile." She winced. "Bruce NOT happy."

She did what? I stifled a chuckle. Bruce thought that the Batmobile was his second son. Touch it and die was a threat that he didn't even have to say, it was just assumed by all intelligent life. Except, it seems, Cass. "Umm, you're still alive, so I guess that means you didn't dent it."

Cass grumbled. "Didn't even get out of cave. Didn't get my own Bat-car, either." She turned to look at me, noticed my wince and returned her gaze to the road. "Did get a lecture." Her voice was aggrieved in remembrance.

"I'll bet." Finally, we pulled up to a parking garage near the clock tower. I heaved a silent breath of relief as I got out of the car, just thankful that I was alive.

Unfortunately, I forgot who I was dealing with, and she read the relief right off of my movements. I ducked to avoid the playful slap upside the head. "Silly, I drive safe."

"Uhh, yeah. Just like Dick taught you. Sure." I drew the last word out sarcastically. I grinned at her, and she smirked back.

It was different, talking to her like this. When I'd left, she was still having difficulties communicating with people, preferring the darkness of her personal cave to the only slightly more populated main cave, or even the manor. I hadn't been around much, and to be honest she'd always intimidated me even when we did happen to be working together. Not scared of her, really, just doing the fifteen year old around a pretty girl that could kick my tail with one hand behind her back thing…

Okay, so I had really been just scared of her. Sue me.

Cass had changed over the years. She was now more confident in her relationships and dealings with others and her speech difficulties were now only slightly noticeable. She could just be someone who preferred speaking in short sentences instead of someone whose language centers were only partially utilized with the spoken word.

She was also a very pretty woman. Not drop dead gorgeous, not even classically beautiful, but she was a serious athlete, and it showed in the way she moved. The confidence that she had in her own body and the way that she knew that she could protect herself showed, and gave her a look of poise. I hoped that we would become friends. At the very least, we would certainly be working together frequently, so getting to know her better was just a part of the job.

I returned my thoughts to the here and now, pushing my sunglasses further on my nose and canvassing the area out of habit. No danger in sight. Good, I was in too good of a mood to want it interrupted. Not that anyone trying to mug the two of us would be anything other than entertainment, but I wasn't in the mood.

I stifled a chuckle at the thought of a mugger trying to grab Cass's wallet. I resolved then and there that if anything like that ever happened, I wanted to be there to watch. With popcorn, preferably.

We nonchalantly strolled out of the garage and up to the clock tower. I grinned to myself. For all of the times that I had visited the Oracle's lair, I actually couldn't ever remember using this entrance before… and it seemed abnormally light outside. Hmm, guess I really am a night person.

Cass hit the buzzer energetically and before the sound died out the door opened and Barbara stood in the doorway. "Hello, Cass, Tim. Come in."

Waaait a minute…

She's standing?

TBC…

_See, too short. Next one coming soon… krtshadow_


	3. Chapter 3: Explanations

Chapter 3: Explanations

_Here's Chapter 3. _

_**DISCLAIMER: Not mine. DC's, the lucky bums…**_

Chapter 3: Explanations

I blinked. I blinked again. Then I remembered my mouth and sputtered. "You're standing!" I turned to Cass. "She's standing?"

Cass turned to Barbara who was giggling at the stunned look on my face. She shook her head sadly. ""Good fighter, but brain needs work." Somehow that was found to be very funny by both women.

Ouch. My pride was taking a beating today. All right, Tim, you can now reattach your brain to your vocal cords. I sighed and pasted a smile on my face. "Good morning, Barbara."

"M-m-morning." She was still chucking as she opened the door wider and motioned us in.

I just couldn't resist. As I passed her, I commented lightly. "Do you need me to grab your cane for you?"

She raised an eyebrow at me as she pulled a black wooden cane from behind the door. She limped toward the computer room as Cass and I followed. "Very astute. How'd you guess?"

I sniffed derisively. "It wasn't a guess. When you opened the door, you never took your hand off the knob. You were putting weight on it, since your knuckles were turning white. So, you need support of some type. Obviously a cane, since you only braced yourself with one hand, and also, a cane would be the only thing that would fit behind the door, which was the only reasonable place that it would be. Therefore…" I let my voice trail off.

Babs grinned. "Oh, very good, Holmes."

I shot a hurt look at Cass. "She impugned my deductive abilities."

Cass didn't look very apologetic. She pointed a finger at me. "You the one…" She adopted a shocked look and sputtered in mockery of me. "She's standing?"

I felt the need to defend myself. "I've been back how long? And nobody even thought to tell me?" I can't believe that it never occurred to anyone. This had to have been a huge deal for Babs, and therefore, Dick. Even though Bruce would never admit it, he had also been emotionally hurt by the pain that Barbara went through. The healing of her body, at least partially, would have been a huge event in the lives of the clan. I guessed that some of her emotional pain was healing along with her legs, since I had never seen her so relaxed and alive.

Barbara sat in a low rolling chair by the huge computer banks and turned towards me. "Well, it slipped my mind the first evening, and even if I had remembered, I wouldn't have brought it up. We had enough mental trauma for one night. Speaking of which, come here." It was an Oracle voice of command, eerily similar to Batman's, and before I knew it, I walked over to her chair and crouched, looking her in the eye.

She promptly whacked me on the head. "You idiot, why'd you stay gone so long! You have no idea how many nights I have had to hear Dick rant about you. And Bruce just acts like he doesn't care, but we all know he does and…." Sputtering off into silence, she whacked me again. Harder. "Don't do that again! If you have to leave again, at least promise me you'll keep in touch!"

How did she do that! I hadn't even seen them coming! Rubbing my head, I nodded quickly. "I promise, I promise!" I judiciously decided not to bring up the fact that she hadn't contacted me, either. Granted, if she'd tried in the last nine months or so, she might not have been able to find me anyway.

She reached for me again and I started to move away for the sake of my head, but the next thing I knew I was being hugged, hard. "I missed you, Tim. We all did."

By this point, between the whacks and the unexpected hug, I was completely bewildered. There was probably something profound and astute to say at that point, but all that came out was, "Oh, um, Barbara, I, uh."

Smooth, yes, I know.

She pulled back and smiled at me. "I'm going to hold you to that promise, you know. I want to know if you are okay, alright? Even if you can't tell me where you are or what you are up to." She paused, thoughtful, "Although telling me that is much preferred. Saves me the time of having to figure it out on my own."

I stood up, manfully resisting the urge to rub my head, and anxious to change the subject before confusion overtook me completely. I hadn't had time to think before promising, and I was now picturing several potential incidences in which I might not want Barbara to know where I was and what I was doing. Still, by her own admission, just telling her that I was okay was sufficient. How to do that without giving her the clues to find out the details would be a challenge that I could attack when and if the time came. So, I had no problem looking her in the eye and telling her, "I'll keep you posted as much as I can."

"Good enough! Now, you had asked about my walking." Her smile changed into a happy grin. "Sorry, I almost told you the other day after I filled you in about your friends, but I guess I just wanted to see the look on your face. Everybody else was getting constant updates during the procedure and therapy, so I didn't really get to surprise anyone."

"So, this visit was a conspiracy." Joining in the playful mood, I shot Cass a downright mournful gaze. "And here I thought you were just drawn to my shining personality."

I winced as Cass rolled her eyes. You didn't need to be able to read body language to see the sarcasm. Ouch again. It's just not my day. I turned back to Babs. She was watching us interact with a gleam in her eye.

Uh oh. I've seen that look on women's faces before. Time to change the subject. Fast. "So, now that I'm here, tell me what happened."

Babs settled back in her chair. "I'll spare you and give you the short version."

Cass headed for the door. "Still too long. I watch monitors."

Babs rolled her eyes. "OK, the relatively short version." I was very interested, since the last that I had heard, Barbara's condition had been incurable. Obviously not anymore. "Well, it actually started only a couple of months after you left. Atom was working on some project having to do with molecular biology of spinal tissue…" She waved a hand and rolled her eyes again. "Don't ask me why, I swear, every time I talk to that guy my vocabulary tries to grow by five percent. He had a reason, and it had to do with a type of brain tissue that responded to the same stimuli that might have caused a certain cerebral palsy that had been showing up only in the Azores, and… "

I held up a hand. "I get the picture, something very complicated. Go on." I could research it later.

"Anyway, he was working closely with a couple of surgeons from S.T.A.R Labs in Washington, and one of them managed to talk him into a little side research. Dr. Andrews, the surgeon, had a theory that he wanted to try regarding the healing of paralysis, and it was so revolutionary that nobody was taking him seriously. Ray ended up talking to J'onn about it. J'onn remembered me, and contacted Bruce, who managed, somehow, and I wish I could figure out how, to hack into S.T.A.R., insert my entire medical file under another name and get me picked to be one of several test cases. Not to mention an absolutely huge grant to see that the research got done."

I blinked. "Wow."

"Yeah, from everything that I've heard, well, hacked… " She sent me a wicked grin. "… It's worked quite well for all but one of the test subjects, and he had some other medical difficulties. It's still being kept secret and is under review by the government, but I imagine that the news of it will be out in a year or so. According to the doctors I've spoke to, it may revolutionize surgery."

"Well, that's great, I'm happy for you. It must have been great to walk again." I just couldn't imagine being paralyzed. I think that it would totally just drive me insane. I'd always wondered if that had been what had really affected my father, maybe even more than my mother's death, just not being what he used to be, and having no hope of getting back to where he was. Even with Dana's help, he was still pretty much wheelchair bound.

Barbara gave me a smile and shrugged. "You have NO idea. I'll take the pain any day."

I didn't want to pry, but she had been the one to initiate the whole conversation, so I went ahead and asked. "Are you in a lot of pain?"

She shrugged again and shook her head. "It goes in spells, sometimes I hardly even need the cane and the pain is hardly even noticeable and other times I have to pop pills before I even move out of bed. I survive, and I wouldn't trade it back, but it does wear on me sometimes."

"Yeah, I bet. Well, I'm surprised, but I couldn't think of a nicer thing to be surprised about."

"OK, now I want to talk about you. How are you?" Barbara sat forward and gave me a 'tell all' look. I could tell that she wanted as much of my life story as I was willing to give.

Umm. What to say? " Well, I'm staying in Gotham, obviously. Which reminds me, I need to ask you a favor."

She grinned. "Depends on what it is."

I reached into the inner pocket of my jacket and pulled out a manila envelope. Opening it, I spilled about seven different ID's out into my hand. A sheaf of papers followed and I started sorting. This one and that one, and that one went back into the envelope, which went back into my pocket. The other's I handed to

Babs. "Not urgent, but I need the money from these accounts that go with these people transferred into something local. These papers should give you all the info you need… or I can do it if you want…"

"I'll take care of it, no problem." She shuffled through the papers, grinning slightly. She held one U.S. Driver's License up to the light. "You need to fill me in on where you got these done sometime. They are very, very good." She placed the small stack of papers on the coffee table. "I'll get to them later this afternoon. I notice that Tim Drake isn't among them." Her tone was questioning.

"Tim Drake is still in Switzerland, according to anybody that would be looking. You might be able to find out different, but not a whole lot of others could, and I like it that way. I figure it would be kind of stupid to bring that identity home right now. It might catch some attention, and I don't need that right now." Hopefully, my Dad didn't start publicizing my return. I couldn't see him doing so, though.

"That's pretty smart, actually. Leave Drake in another country altogether and when you finally do use that name again, Darkhawk will have been in business for a while and there will be no possible connection." I raised an eyebrow. She smirked. "You don't really think that anything goes on in the clan that I don't know about, do you? Dick filled me in last night."

I had opened my mouth to reply when suddenly the door chime rang again. Babs aimed a remote at her largest computer screen and pressed a series of buttons. The stoop outside the front door flickered on the screen. Dinah Lance stood on the step, hand raised to push the bell again. She looked angry.

Babs groaned and pounded her clenched fist against her head. "Shoot! I was supposed to meet her for lunch…" She glanced at the clock and winced, "Almost forty minutes ago. You showed up and it slipped my mind." She stood and limped towards what I assumed was still her bedroom. "Tim, would you mind getting the door for me. Just tell her I'll be right out."

"No problem." I headed to the door, pausing at the bank of blinking alarm lights that lined the wall beside the door. I yelled, "Barbara, the alarms?"

"They're all off now." Came the reply after a couple of seconds.

Reassured that if I opened the door I wouldn't be attacked by Bab's security system and that no loud noises was going to herald the opening door, I slid the dead bolt into the unlocked position and opened the door. Dinah had her back to the door and she was obviously fuming.

Without turning, she grunted. "'Bout time you answered. You stood me up. And I think I broke another communicator thingy-ma-bob, because all I'm getting is static."

"Technically…" I was going to politely explain, as if it wasn't highly obvious, that I wasn't Barbara, and that she would be out in a minute. However, my intentions, as good as they were, didn't help me much as Dinah whirled, interrupting me with an abrupt question. "Who the heck are you?"

Now that was a long story. I opened my mouth to start the edited version. Once again, before I could even get started, her eyes widened and she yelled. "YOU!"

Things definitely went downhill from there, because the next thing she did was dive for my throat.

So not my day.

_Okay, that's it for now. Poor Tim, he can't catch a break from the women today… Comments, questions, suggestions, etc. are welcome. krtshadow_


	4. Chapter 4: Discussions

CHAPTER 4: Discussions

_Sorry to take so long to continue this, I keep getting sidetracked with ideas for later stories in the Exile series, and forget to work on the next one to post… whoops… _

_**DISCLAIMER: Sooo not mine… or Tim would have a much, much better life…**_

CHAPTER 4: Discussions

The next thing that I knew I was lying on the ground, flat on my back, with a very angry Black Canary's hands around my throat. I suppressed a curse. I hadn't been on my guard, hadn't been expecting anything and I'd relaxed my attentiveness and readiness for attack. Dinah had gotten the jump on me. How utterly embarrassing. First Cass this morning, then Barbara beating on my head, and now Dinah.

I hadn't been in Gotham a week and I was already losing my edge.

Not that I was in any great danger. Unless Dinah had suddenly gone crazy, she wasn't going to seriously hurt anything more than my pride. And I was hardly helpless, even flat on my back.

Still, although the idea of soothing my pride by exchanging positions with my would-be attacker was very tempting, I'd prefer to just keep this friendly. Unfortunately, it looked like I was the only one. Dinah growled. "Where's Babs, you creep? And how'd you get in here?"

I grabbed her hands and pushed them off of my throat slightly. "Babs is in the bedroom, and she let me in."

Wait a minute, that didn't sound so good.

"To the tower, not her bedroom." Before I dug myself in any deeper, I changed the subject. I shot her my most charming smile. "I'm honestly sorry about your motorcycle." It was obvious to me that she had recognized me from our brief encounter on my first day in Gotham. The one where I had been the unknown and possibly hostile stranger, who had tricked her, messed with her ride, and then vanished.

Before Dinah could question me further, Barbara limped into the room and blinked at surprise at the sight of us on the floor. I turned my head slightly and met her surprised eyes. "Let me make another deduction. You haven't told her the whole story."

Babs was trying valiantly not to laugh. "Sorry, I forgot…" She didn't sound very sorry.

Cass appeared behind her and widened her eyes at me. Her voice was incredulous. "Let her win?" She couldn't seem to figure out why I was submitting meekly. I wasn't sure myself, other than I figured that it would be kind of rude to take down Bab's best friend while I was a guest in her house. Prep school etiquette classes, have to love them. I'll admit that this particular situation hadn't been covered, however.

Dinah was visibly confused. "This is the guy from the other night, right?"

Babs nodded. "Yes, and…"

Dinah interrupted. "Annnd why is he here with both of you?" She shifted her attention almost totally away from me, and I took advantage of her lapse to roll out from under her. We both regained our feet at about the same time. Dinah moved into a defensive position and eyed me warily.

Cass slipped past Barbara and stood between Dinah and I. She smirked in Dinah's direction and said. "I'll protect you." Then she turned back to me and frowned sternly. "Be good." Obviously assuming that this was adequate protection, she headed back towards the computer room.

I blinked, Dinah blinked, and Babs just shook her head. "I'm not sure that I'll ever be able to forgive Dick for teaching her sarcasm. Or attempting to, as the case may be." She turned back to the now very confused Dinah. "It's ok. This is…" She looked at me blankly, clearly unsure of how much information I wanted Dinah to know. "Um, he's a friend."

Dinah didn't look convinced. "Oh, really. And he was running from us why?"

Deeming the situation at least mostly defused, I answered. "An old friend, with a slight grudge. I'm Tim, by the way." If Barbara trusted Dinah with her identity and Cass's, well, that was good enough for me.

Barbara squawked, "Slight? You do know that you scared a years' life out of me…"

I gave her my very best wicked grin. "Too bad, I was shooting for two."

"Oh, ha ha." Babs turned back to Dinah and explained. "He broke into the cave and freaked us all out."

I interjected. "You deserved it…" Well, maybe not entirely. But it was fun to remember, especially now that all the mental trauma, as Barbara called it, was at least mostly over.

Babs ignored me and continued. "And then he tossed Dick on his butt, which you missed by the way."

Dinah blinked. "He did that! No way. You've got to be kidding." Her voice was shocked.

Okay, that's it. I do have some pride. Barbara's eyes had shot to me and I know that she noticed my smirk. Her eyes widened slightly and she opened her mouth, likely to warn Dinah, and then her eyes sparkled and she shut it and gave me a slight nod.

Oooh, permission granted by the owner of the house. My manners class satisfied, I pounced. Dinah had caught on to our little nonverbal communication and was turning her attention back towards me. Too late. She had made the mistake of blinking. Blinking after she'd insulted me! Bad move.

I moved as fast as I could, hooking Dinah's ankle as I swept past her. As I whirled behind her, she moved her body to follow me around, but before she could, I slid my other foot into the back of her knee. Off balance, she fell to her knees and I slid an arm around her neck and tightened slightly. Cutting off her air would have taken a moment or two, time that she could have used to escape, but she knew and I knew that it would have been just as easy to hit a nerve cluster. "Nope, not kidding." I murmured in her ear and then released her, on my guard if she wanted to continue.

She didn't. She sat back, looked at Barbara and started laughing. "Oh, lord, you better have video. 'Wing on his butt. This I gotta see." She tilted her head back and looked at me. "And you, how old are you anyway? Where did you learn to move like that?" Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Not another Cain trainee, I hope."

I blinked. I had that much in common with Cass to make her think that? I answered quickly, trying my best to make the story as short as possible. "I am eighteen. I used to be Robin and have been having some…" I paused, considering the wording. "… extracurricular training for the past few years. I'll be around, at least for a while, and the new name is Darkhawk. The only Cain that I care to associate with is Cass."

"Better keep it that way!" Yelled Cass from the other room.

Dinah rolled to her feet. "Well, I'm convinced that you can take me, anyway. At least in strict martial arts." She rolled her shoulders slightly and turned back to me, looking hopeful. "Can you cook? I'm starving, but not hungry enough to eat either one of their cooking." Her hand encompassed Barbara and the computer room where Cass was supposedly watching the monitors.

Barbara looked peeved. "Hey! And no, he isn't cooking, we'll just get takeout." She turned towards the computer room and rattled out, "Cass, speed dial 4 regular order times four!" She turned to me. "Chinese is ok, right?"

American Chinese food? Loaded with oils and salt and tasting nothing like the actual Chinese food that I had lived on for the majority of the past year? The thought nearly paralyzed me. I nodded emphatically, my mouth already watering. "Oh, yeah!"

An hour later we were just polishing off the last of a huge order of chow mein, egg rolls, orange chicken, rice and broccoli beef. I sat back in my chair and groan. "Oh, you have no idea how much I missed Chinese food."

Barbara grinned at me. "Didn't you get plenty of it over there?"

"Not like this." I happily cornered a couple of fortune cookies and snapped them open. As usual, the fortunes predicted things I didn't really think I would get, like a long life, and an upcoming romance.

Like I'm that lucky…

Barbara had been regaling me with a rundown of the current criminal situation in Gotham, with Dinah, and occasionally Cass throwing in information as well.

She had just finished telling me that Joker was currently safely in Arkham, but the whereabouts of Two-Face and Riddler were currently unknown, when she suddenly stopped in mid sentence, and stared at me for a couple of seconds. A smile, or rather a smirk, slowly spread across her face. "I just got an idea."

Dinah gave her a scared look and started edging off of her chair in the direction of the door. "Last time you said that, guess who ended up in Argentina? No. No, already."

Barbara poked her with her cane underneath the table. "Oh, okay, never mind then." The conversation resumed, but I caught the speculative looks that Barbara kept shooting my way, and knew that she still had something on her mind. Something to do with me.

Wonderful. I hope it's not Argentina.

TBC…

_Thanks for all the positive reviews. For those that have commented on not liking the name Darkhawk, well, I have to admit that I don't just love it myself, but that coming up with a name that wasn't already used or really dumb sounding was quite a bit harder than I had anticipated. For the record, I am aware that it is a Marvel name. Not a common one, but it has been used before, as have several other names with the word Hawk in it for DC. For the sake of this story, it was the best that I could come up with. For the most part, (and somewhat to Tim's annoyance), it will be shortened to Hawk. I will briefly describe a costume in a later story. Right now, I am debating cape vs. no cape for the new costume. Any opinions? krtshadow_


	5. Chapter 5: Plans

_So sorry to take so long to post. I had LASIK surgery about three weeks ago, and focusing on the computer to write fic after a long day of focusing on the computer for work has been hard. But I've learned my lesson. I won't be posting the next story until I have it finished, so it could be a month or so before Exile: Covert comes out. Thanks for all the feedback on capes. I am still going back and forth on that one, so it could just turn out to be whatever I feel like when I am writing that part… _

Chapter 5: Plans

Well, it wasn't Argentina. By the time Cass and I made it back to the manor, and I had vowed emphatically and frequently that I was driving next and every time, Barbara finally couldn't take it anymore and had emailed me a detailed report of what she had in mind. She wanted someone to go undercover to work on a puzzling gang situation in Gotham. She had considered using Dinah, but she was a little too well known, and possibly a little too old, although she didn't mention that part. I, on the other hand, was currently relatively unknown and just about the right age. Maybe a little young, but a good disguise would take care of that.

The reason for the undercover op was that there was appeared to be a new gang in town. Now, Gotham had seen plenty of gangs rise up and die off, but this one was different in that the usual run-of-the-mill drug dealers, gun-runners, or teenage wanna-bes were noticeably absent. The lack of grandstanding was unusual for Gotham. Crimes were carefully chosen, meticulously planned, and carried out by people, who, if they were caught, didn't know enough to help anyone find the leaders.

It appeared that there were several people at the top, giving orders to a small group of crooks who actually pulled off the jobs. Barbara had taken to calling them the Masterminds, for lack of a better term. If they had a name for themselves, then it was a secret.

Even the choices of crooks was unique in that it was clear that careful thought and planning had gone into that as well. Two men had been caught in a Mastermind crime by Batman, and they hadn't been able to tell him anything more than there were shadowy figures that met him and gave them the details to do the job in exchange for half of the take. The computer paper with typed instructions that they had was not traceable to anywhere, and included what to do if caught. The perps had stated that there had been at least two of them, and that the voice that had spoken was male.

If they'd known any more than that, they would have told him.

Whomever these Masterminds were, they appeared to be highly intelligent, wiling to stay under the radar, and were causing a multitude of problems for small business owners. The crimes committed were relatively low key, but were growing more and more common. And they never, ever, killed or even assaulted someone. By keeping the jobs small, they were falling under the radar of the cops, and even to some extent the Clan. It was difficult to spend too much time on cracking down on a non lethal group of thugs, when there was always someone actually dying somewhere else.

On the other hand, every bad guy gets a turn in Gotham. It's a Bat Clan law.

The trick was figuring out just who the brain or brains behind the scenes were and where they were at. So far, regular methods hadn't worked, and that was where I came in. I was going to try to infiltrate and get some more information. It might not work, but at this point, short of a full out focusing of all clan resources on what wasn't really an emergency, it was what we had. So, the goal was to make me the sort of crook that might get approached to pull off a job. Or, if that didn't work, at least tap into the underworld gossip and see if there was anything floating around that we could use.

I pulled up yet another crime scene report and scanned it, looking for something that was missed, as well as familiarizing myself with how it had went down. The more info that I had, the better able I would be to tailor myself into someone that the Masterminds would be interested in working with.

My preparations were interrupted by a looming presence behind me. "Why did you come back to Gotham?" The question came out of nowhere. But, knowing Bruce, that didn't surprise me much. He was big on throwing questions out there suddenly, to provoke a more accurate answer.

I'd been joking and making light of the situation ever since I'd got here. For once I told the plain unvarnished truth. "I discovered that I am content with being just a soldier, and this is the place where I can do the most good." Maybe I could even be happy here, today certainly made the situation appear hopeful, but in any case, it didn't much matter. I had come to believe that my purpose in life was to fight, either here or somewhere else, to make crime fighting my purpose.

Bruce's eyes widened almost imperceptibly as my slightly cynical but truthful reply. I wondered what he'd been expecting. Maybe he was surprised at how hard I seemed just then. He was a genius; he'd figure it out. The happy go lucky Tim face that I had worn today was at least mostly a mask. A very enjoyable mask, but one I wore like any other. One I could leave behind like any other, if I had too. Bruce should understand quite well, he did it himself, or used to, and from what I'd seen over the last couple of days, it didn't seem as if much had changed.

It didn't mean that I couldn't have fun, or enjoy hanging out with friends. But that wasn't the whole me. Not anymore.

I met his eyes, and for a second, it felt like looking into the mirror. The face, the eyes, even the expression on the face was totally controlled, totally under his command. I wondered if he experienced the same things I did sometimes. If he ever wondered if his emotions even existed if they never showed their face to the world.

After all the fears that I'd had as Robin, the ones that had me turning into a teenage Bruce, here I was going into that state of mind willingly. I could actually understand him, why he was so driven. He had no other options that allowed him any recognizable amount of humanity. To ignore what when on around him, to let the city die as many thought that it deserved, would kill him as quickly as a bullet to the head would. But at least a bullet would kill quickly. Forcing Bruce Wayne to be the playboy that he pretended to be would be the worst kind of torture.

It would be nearly the same for me. Gotham stunk, and it was crime-ridden, madman overrun, and the best place to get mugged, raped, or killed in the entire world, but it was home. When all you have is home, you protect it with everything you have, or you aren't fit to be called human. Or so it was in my eyes. And, I could tell, in just that split second of recognition, it was the same with the Batman.

I lowered my eyes, slightly surprised by the realization of our similarities. I turned my eyes back to the screen and asked quietly. "Anything else you want to know?" I'd answer honestly any question he asked me. Well, almost any question.

"No." Bruce left as silently as he had come and I was left alone with my thoughts and a computer screen. Almost absentmindedly, I called up the next file on my list and tried to read. I was almost a page down when I realized that there was no way that I was retaining any of this information. Somehow, continuing to work just didn't appeal to me much.

I sat back in my chair and pondered. This was getting dangerous. I admitted to myself that this whole week was totally not going the way that I'd expected. I hadn't expected to be back in the clan emotionally as well as physically. I wasn't sure whether I liked the feelings that I was getting from and for the people that I had now committed to work with on a daily basis. I had been prepared to work, not feel like a part of the family again.

What I didn't like about it was the fact that I liked being a part of the family so much.

If this doesn't work out, it's going to kill me. And I really, really don't like the fact that there's a good chance that it will all fall through.

But, I'll play the odds, and see what happens. Maybe they won't find out.

Yeah, right. I'd better enjoy this while I can.

END of Exile 5

_Authors Note: Foreshadowing not to be addressed for a while. Just warning you… Comments and suggestions and even constructive criticism appreciated. _


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